Gym Class Heroes
by Snowsheba
Summary: High school AU. In which Hilbert moves to Johto to attend Goldenrod Academy, reunites with some old friends, meets a lot of new ones, learns that vigilantes can be devastating, and finds that gangs like Galactic and Rocket don't stand a chance against sheer brainpower (and brawn). Contains in-game characters, a small amount of violence, enough romance to cause DRAMA, and PE class.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything because at the moment, I'm broke. And sad. But being broke more has to do with not owning anything.  
**

* * *

In comparison to Undella Town, Goldenrod City was so full of noise, sights, and smells that it made Hilbert feel a little bit overwhelmed.

"Dawn likes to call it a bustling city of hustling," Hilda said cheerfully from beside him.

"As opposed to bustling metropolis," Cheren added, from his other side. Bianca laughed her twinkly laugh, and despite his anxiety he felt a bit better at the sound of it.

Moving from Unova to Johto had been more out of necessity than anything: his old school, Academy of Undella, only went on until students were exactly sixteen years of age, while his new one, Goldenrod Academy, would carry him onward until age eighteen. Even so, it was an enormous change, and he was glad that his old friends were attending the same school. He hadn't known they were students there until he'd been shown the lunchroom earlier that day and found them sitting together.

As it turned out, they had gone through another school in Goldenrod City, after which they were chosen to attend the Academy. They had told him this through emails, letters, and Skype calls, back when the three of them left two years ago when they were all fourteen, but it seemed more concrete now that he was here as well.

He looked down at the folder the school's secretary had given him, detailing his schedule, dorm room, lunch menu, and so forth, and asked his friends, "When did the school year begin again?"

"Two months ago, I think," Hilda replied. She scrunched her nose, and said, "August twenty-fifth, was it? That sounds about right."

"And you're in our class!" Bianca said excitedly.

Hilbert frowned, trying to remember, but, in his addled state, he felt as though he were grasping for straws – very long, thin, slippery straws. "Sorry, but, um. Which one is that?"

"Class A," the blonde answered with a happy little grin. "We're all together, just like old times!"

"If you can keep up, that is," Cheren said with a smirk. Hilbert sent him a dry look and he laughed. "I'm kidding, Hilbert. You're already in the math team, and I've heard Silver's thinking of recruiting you into Quiz Bowl as well."

"Not to mention Calem's looking into making you a co-captain of the robotics team," Hilda added.

Hilbert blinked. That was news to him. Also, he didn't know who Calem was. "Who's that, and since when?"

"He's in Class A too, and he was totally grilling us about what you did back in Unova today while mister Morty was showing you around," Bianca told him, and then she chuckled and said, "Well, as much as a quiet guy can grill someone, anyway! Don't worry, he's nice. You'll like him."

"He's a really good programmer," Cheren said. "He's been looking for an experienced builder for a while now, so your arrival is actually kind of serendipitous."

"Neat," Hilbert said tersely, beginning to feel overwhelmed again, pressure building in the base of his skull. He was still suffering from jet lag, and he hadn't slept in eighteen hours, and there were all of these new responsibilities looming above him.

"Isn't it, though?" Hilda said. "You're, like, famous, and you haven't even gone to a single day of school yet! Talk about popular."

His response was a noncommittal grunt, and Bianca chimed in, "Oh, we're just teasing, Hilbert. It can only get better from here, you know!"

He wondered if Bianca viewed everything in a rose-colored lens, as he rubbed his eyes with the base of his palm and asked, "Cheren, can you show me where the dorms are?"

Currently they were walking through the campus's main courtyard, maintained by the school's top-notch gardening club and therefore bursting with flowers and greenery. It did not quite cover the acrid scent of the city beyond, and Hilbert felt an intense longing for the smell of the sea as he sighted a young student with her Vaporeon on her shoulder. The place was teeming with people and their Pokémon, and just like everything else about the place, it was slightly overwhelming.

He refocused his attention as Cheren said, "No problem. Hilda, Bianca, see you tomorrow."

"Buh-bye! Sleep well, Hilbert!"

"What she said. See you both later."

"Bye," Hilbert said weakly, and his friend gave him shoulder a reassuring pat as the girls went the opposite way and Cheren easily navigated through the bushes. The Academy itself was a tall, harrowing structure that contained multiple elements of Gothic architecture, and if he were being honest, Hilbert had mistaken it for a church when he first laid eyes on it.

"It's going to be pretty fast-paced at first," Cheren told him as they walked. "Hilda's class president, so you should ask her for anything if you're confused about things. You've met the homeroom teacher already, right?"

"Yes," Hilbert replied, remembering that Lance, as he had been insisted he be called, had not even been in the classroom when he and his guide had run into him outside the library. As far as he knew, the man hadn't even bothered to return to his students. "He was, er. Interesting, to say the least."

Cheren snorted. "Yeah, he's a bit obsessed about dragons and the like. He usually mentions that he'd like to own one at least three times per class period – when he's there, anyway." He stopped the brunet in front of a building with an entrance that reminded Hilbert of a gaping maw. "This is the boys' dormitories – the common room is straight ahead. Do you know your room number?"

"Yeah, it's, uh," he quickly flipped through his folder and found the page, "212. Do I have a roommate?"

"Since you're a transfer student, I doubt it. Lucky you."

"I don't know, I think it might have been nice."

"It might have been, but then, it might have not," Cheren said with a knowing shrug, though how he made a shrug look knowing was beyond Hilbert. "Well, anyway, you're on the second floor, let's see if we can find it."

The common room, as Cheren had called it, was enormous. The floor was marble, and the stone walls were carved with such elaborate decorations that Hilbert was convinced it had taken decades to finish the south wall alone. The ceiling extended upwards to accommodate four floors and then beyond into an intricate skylight, and the halls leading to the separate dormitories themselves seemed to stretch on forever when he peeked down the leftward one.

"This is the fanciest building I have ever seen," Hilbert said frankly.

"You should see the church building" was Cheren's response. "Come on, the stairs are this way."

It was late afternoon, and the halls were deserted as Cheren led him up a dingy little staircase that looked entirely out of place given the majesty of the building itself. Hilbert privately thought it was a good thing that there was no one around to see him in his ragged hoodie and jeans as he pulled his luggage and papers along, feeling his muscles burn with fatigue. Lucky for him, his room was at the end of the hallway. _Figures_.

Cheren showed him how to use his key and reminded him that losing it meant a one hundred pokédollar fee to get a new one, before telling him his own room number (124) and leaving him to his own devices. Hilbert entered the room with a mild sense of trepidation, only to find a small space with one bed, one desk, one chair, one dresser and a closet. It seemed he would be on his own after all, and he felt a twinge of nervousness as he locked the door behind him.

He hadn't brought much along with him, since he wasn't exactly the richest kid on the block – he was at the Academy on scholarships, actually, earned through his expertise in robotics and math in general – and it only took him a matter of minutes to pack all of his clothes away. Setting his bed was a quick affair that rewarded him with a soft place to sleep, the first in a while, and it felt heavenly compared to the airplane seats and ship cots he'd been habituating for the past couple of weeks. Unova was very far away.

As soon as this was done, he fished around his bag until he found the Pokéball hidden in his bag, releasing his Tepig into the room. It yawned sleepily, and he whispered an apology for waking it up as it realized it was in a new place and promptly began to explore.

He did change into a T-shirt and sweatpants and kicked off his shoes, as well as lay out his uniform for the following day, before he quite literally threw himself into bed, dropping off quickly enough that he hardly noticed when his Tepig settled down at the his feet.

* * *

"And this is our new transfer student, Hilbert Black. Everyone say hello."

There was a chorus of greetings following Lance's introduction, both human and Pokémon, and Hilbert gave a weak wave in return. He was tired, he was nervous, and the guy in the back hadn't stopped eyeing him since he entered the room. His gaze was sharp and observant, his hand absently stroking the Espeon curled up on his desk; Hilbert could only guess what was going on behind those golden eyes.

"Okay, now that that's done, I have some business to attend to. You have study hall until Pryce comes to teach you English. Be nice."

And with that, Lance simply left the room, leaving Hilbert standing up front without any idea of where he should be sitting.

Fortunately, Hilda came to the rescue and saved everyone a long, awkward silence as she stood up and announced, "All right, everybody, you heard the man! If we're being nice, we should all introduce ourselves!" This was followed by approving murmurs, and noticing Hilbert's discomfort, she shot him a grin and added, "You can sit anywhere, as long as it's an open desk. Looks like the one next to Serena is open."

Serena ended up being a beautiful, blond-haired girl with impeccable fashion sense. "I am Serena," she said with a thick accent when he hesitantly slipped into his seat, holding out her hand. Her grip was firm. "I am fifteen years old. I am from the Kalos region, so I have traveled far, as you have."

Everyone swarmed him as soon as she was done, a rush of names and ages and places flowing past his ears that was only intensified with inane chatter, boisterous laughing and generally loud noises. Hilbert bit his lip as he felt a headache pulsing in his temples, trying and failing to focus on the earnest blue-haired girl in front of him, and then Hilda yelled, "Everyone back off! We're going to do this one at a time!" Everyone did as she said as she pointed to the guy who had been eyeing him earlier. "You first. Go!"

The boy gave her an unreadable look before speaking. His voice was husky, almost, as if he'd spent the majority of his life screaming at the top of his lungs, and his Espeon regally raised its head to stare at Hilbert as he told him, "I'm Wes, I'm seventeen, I'm from Orre. Nice to meet you, I suppose."

"I'm Rui!" the girl standing next to him said. Her smile was brilliant, her eyes were a deep blue, her hair was a flaming red. The Umbreon sitting prime at her feet blinked deep ruby eyes at him. "I'm also from Orre and I'm also seventeen." Wes muttered something under his breath and she elbowed him, before turning back to Hilbert and saying cheerily, "Don't mind Wes, he's always grumpy."

Serena, having already introduced, stepped aside to reveal another brunet like Hilbert, though his hair was longer and he held himself mostly straight, but with a slight slouch that indicated he spent a lot of time hunched over a computer screen. "I'm Calem," he said, and like Serena he had an accent, though it wasn't nearly as heavy as hers. "I'm sixteen and I'm from Kalos."

"We have known each other for six years!" Serena exclaimed, leaning herself on Calem's shoulders, which she could do effectively as she was a number of inches taller. The boy looked slightly uncomfortable but did nothing to retaliate as Serena added, "You will have to forgive me if I speak in my native tongue. I forget sometimes."

As it turned out, there were twenty-one other people in the class, and even with Hilda having each of them introducing themselves – and showing off their individual Pokémon – one at a time, he had difficulty focusing through his exhaustion to remember which name went to which face.

He already knew Cheren and Bianca, of course, and he had met Nate, Hugh and Rosa previously on Skype calls, though they were a year younger than he and his friends. Dawn, Lucas and Barry hailed from Sinnoh, while from Hoenn there was May and Brendan, the latter of whom wore a most unusual hat that Hilbert did not remark upon. Ethan, Lyra and Silver were from Johto, whereupon he was informed that Silver was currently valedictorian, and Red, Gary and Leaf were from Kanto.

"No one was expecting you to get into Class A, you know," Leaf told him quietly, one eyebrow raised. She was leaning back in her chair with her legs propped up on her desk, idly examining her fingernails – rough and ragged from constant biting, Hilbert could see. "I mean, a transfer student getting in? It sounded pretty implausible."

"I still think it is," Gary said with a grumble, and Red reached over and smartly slapped his shoulder. Gary flinched away with a yelp, and then told Hilbert, "Nothing personal, but this class has been together since forever, and no one thought someone new would come in."

"He's not really _that_ new," Rosa pointed out. "Hugh, Nate and I have met him before. And Hilda and Cheren and Bianca are childhood friends with him."

Silver nodded agreement, as Ethan told the class as a whole, "Well, I think it's a good thing. We could all use a change of pace – "

" – and someone who actually knows how to build robots," Calem added. May made a rude sound and crude motion behind his back, earning her a soft chiding from Brendan, and Calem didn't even turn his head as he intoned, "You're on the programming team anyway, May, it's not like you can build a robot."

"If you gave her a few days to figure it out, I'm sure you'd be mistaken," Lyra said, nose in the air. She and Silver had pushed their desks together and were comparing notes for Quiz Bowl, if Hilbert was reading the paper upside-down correctly. Dawn and Lucas were crouching on the side of the desks, examining the papers with them. "May's a smart cookie."

"I'm just glad we actually get a cover story for once," Barry interjected. His appearance was most unusual, at least for Hilbert – orange eyes were rare, and he seemed to style his hair for the specific purpose of spearing people in the eye. "It's been awhile since anything interesting happened."

"So, what, the whole senior's prank wasn't good enough?" Hugh demanded hotly. "They managed to get the principal into the fountain somehow, and you _know_ what an uptight woman she is!"

Hilbert saw Cheren and Bianca exchange glances before rolling their eyes; looking over at Hilda, he found the girl's head in her hands, exasperation practically rolling off of her in waves.

"Is this what usually happens in study hall?" he asked no one in particular.

To his surprise, every single person in the room chimed back, "_Yes_."

* * *

Pryce insisted that Hilbert come to the front and introduce himself, again, having felt that Lance would not have done an adequate job. No one had the heart to tell him he was right.

"Go on then, boy, we aren't getting any younger," the older man said with a chuckle after Hilbert stood in silence for all of two seconds.

"I'm Hilbert Black," he said for the umpteenth time, sighing inwardly – surely everyone would be sick of his name by now. He was, at least a little bit. "I'm sixteen, and I transferred from Academy of Undella a few days ago. I lived in Hoenn for ten years before my family moved to Unova," and this is new information, you can see May and Brendan's eyes light up in interest, and he felt a little bad as he followed up with "And my parents were victims of the Plasma Intervention."

Whatever chatter had been present ceased immediately upon his words. By now, he could say them without too much difficulty, but any reminder of his late parents still brought a lump to his throat.

"That's part of the reason why I'm here. The other part is that the Academy of Undella only accepts students under the age of sixteen, and I turned that age a few weeks ago."

After a pregnant pause, in which one could have heard a pin drop, Hilbert turned to Pryce and asked, "May I be seated?"

"Certainly, young man," his teacher responded, but all of the energy that had been in his voice had faded, and the atmosphere of the classroom had sobered as he made his way to his seat and sat down. Serena laid a hand on his shoulder for a moment when he did, and since he didn't know how to react, he didn't look at her, instead directing his gaze to his desk.

A voice from the back said, "I apologize for being the ignorant foreigner here, but it would be excellent if someone could explain." He could recognize that voice anywhere after hearing it once – it was well-known that Orre was in such turmoil all the time that it rarely received news of the outside world, but even so, Hilbert expected Wes to be a little more knowledgeable, considering what school he was attending.

"Well," Pryce said, tone heavy, "I am not your history teacher, but I suppose with young Hilbert being new, we could afford being sidetracked for one class period."

With that, Hilbert was forced to sit through an entire lecture that was an objective view of what happened to Unova during Plasma's attempted coup. The government was still recovering from the financial and economical blows rained upon it during the whole attack, to say nothing of what happened to its citizens. Most escaped with a scratch or two; others were less fortunate.

Hilbert said nothing when Pryce spoke of the unspeakable violence Plasma performed while parading under the guise of freedom and peace. To be sure, N, the leader of Plasma, had no idea what was occurring, "And future parents," Pryce said, "You should take this as a lesson of having too sheltered of a childhood," but that did nothing to excuse the bloodshed that resulted directly from his underlings.

The only time Hilbert interjected was when Pryce said no one knew how Ghetsis, N's father and the true leader of the Plasma movement, managed to have eyes and ears everywhere, and even then, all he said was, "He had the Shadow Triad," refusing to explain more despite Pryce's interest and everyone's insistence. He slouched down in his seat and avoided eye contact, even with his friends, as Pryce wrapped up the lecture, asking at the end for any questions.

"Not a question," Wes said, "A comment. Directed at Hilbert, if he chooses to listen." Hilbert nodded slightly, and the teen continued, "I must apologize for my rudeness earlier. Perhaps it would have been better to broach the topic when you were not present – it was a thoughtless move on my part. I am sorry."

… That was the very last thing he had expected the Orrian to say. It wasn't that he looked tough, or that he acted a little standoffish, or that he didn't seem to talk to anyone save Rui, but – actually, who was he kidding, that was exactly why he didn't expect what Wes said.

"It's fine," Hilbert replied. "It would have been brought up at some point, anyway. It's good to get it over with."

"Yes, Rosa?" Pryce asked, efficiently moving on to the next question.

The younger girl snuck a glance over at Hilbert, blue eyes wide with uncertainty, but in the end she did ask her question. "How is it possible that N remained ignorant of what was going on with the lesser members of his movement?"

Pryce thought about it for a moment, and then admitted, "You have to understand that Unova has done its best to keep the details under wraps, and so I only know the outline of the story. Unovians themselves are not exactly willing to speak of it, either, for obvious reasons."

"Sir," Lyra said, and Pryce nodded at her, "You mentioned that their aim was, supposedly, for freedom and peace. Could you elaborate?"

"I will try. The freedom portion, and keep in mind that this is purely speculation, was supposed to be a sort of 'freedom of the people' – perhaps a general idea that there should be equality between ethnicities and social classes. The peace portion, from what I understand, is exactly what it sounds like – the halting of fighting and strife everywhere."

"It sounds kind of like communism," Gary said, tilting his head.

"In some senses, I suppose you can say they are similar in some ways," Pryce agreed – or disagreed. Hilbert silently applauded the man's evasive answer. "In any case, it can be said that while Plasma's values and message were honorable, its methods were anything but."

Hilbert opened his mouth to say something, only to think better of it and shut it again. If anyone noticed, they did not say anything, and for more than a few moments, the class was quiet.

"Did the Plasma gang here break off from that main group?" Lucas ventured after a moment. His voice was soft but still firm in some ways.

"That, my boy, I can't say. Given their tendency to use guns, however, I believe there is some merit in saying that they are a corrupted branch of such, if they did happen to come from the first movement."

_Gang?_ There were Plasma members here, after he had done his best to leave it behind? He'd have to research them later, and he scowled down at his hands as silence reigned. No one dared move in fear of breaking it, as they all thought about the new information that they had learned.

Pryce finally broke it by clapping his hands. "Well, this discussion has been delightful, but I'm afraid that I must point out that we are now behind in our Shakespearean reading." He laughed as some students groaned, and then told them, "Please take out your _Taming of the Shrew_ texts at this time. Ah, Hilbert," he said, noticing his new transfer student fail to produce a copy, "You will find additional texts in the back. Wes, if you could pass one up – thank you. Now then, turn to page 54. We will start on the first passage on the left."

For the rest of class, Hilbert's eyes glazed over the words, as images of the violence back in Unova tore through his skull. No one said anything when he pushed his text forward and lay his head on his desk, crossing his arms in front of him. He was glad they appreciated his privacy.

* * *

After English – his first period class – he was informed that the next teacher was a nice lady, but they had to ask her to speak up all the time, and on occasion the lesson had to be retaught the next day due to the fact she was overcoming intense shyness with the help of a therapist.

"Her name's Ms. Jasmine," Hugh told him with a grin. "She's nice. I'm sure you'll like her."

"What does she teach?"

"Physics."

"I'm terrible at physics."

"Join the club," Barry snorted, jerking a thumb in Lyra's direction, who gave him a small but cheerful wave before pointing to Serena, who nodded at Hugh, who then completed the circle by indicated Barry with a sweep of his hand.

"It's more like a support group," Lyra told him. His classmates were an odd bunch, and he gave them a weak smile as the teacher walked in.

For the rest of the day, his thoughts were distracted, even as teachers handed him materials and the homework piled up. He'd mentioned the Plasma Intervention early on to prevent any questions from coming up later, but he should have known that in doing so, he would be somber and quiet for the remainder of the day – not exactly the best impression on his first time stepping into his classroom.

Still, he thought to himself as he absently finished the math homework during Mr. Morty's lecture on the subject, they could spare to give him a break.

His friends were quick to gather around him as soon as the math lesson had finished before they made their way over to the lunchroom – a kind of human shield that kept both people and questions away. He was grateful for it, and his quiet "Thanks" was met with a crushing side-hug from Hilda while both Bianca and Cheren gave him grave yet understanding looks.

He had forgotten what it was like to have close friends, ever since they had moved away, and he was grateful that they were here with him.

Lunch was a grandiose affair that involved a lot of food Hilbert had not tasted before. Johto was fond of noodles and rice and the like, while in Unova it was customary to eat fruits, vegetables, and fish. More of than not, Hilbert had eaten a berry salad every meal; around here, he could pick and choose from numerous versions of pad thai alone. It was a little intimidating, and in the end he wasn't too hungry anyway, so he picked and chose berries, put them together, and ate them quietly as his friends cheerfully chattered away at the table.

Someone slipped in to join them – Nate, who was quickly followed by Rosa and Hugh. "It's good to finally meet you in person, Hilbert," Nate said, a small, quicksilver smile coming and going across his face. "Hilda has told us a lot about you."

"She says you were her best friend back when you were younger," Rosa said, holding a pad of paper and a pencil. Further inspection revealed said pad of paper was in fact a sketchbook. "Seems impossible to me, considering how many people she knows right now."

Hilbert shrugged. "We were pretty close when I first moved in, yeah. Cheren and Bianca too." He snuck a glance over at Hilda, who was talking animatedly with Bianca, and then lowered his voice. "She was one of the main reasons I went to Academy of Undella in the first place, so I guess she's also why I'm here right now."

"How so?" Rosa asked, and both Hugh and Nate looked curious.

"She's pretty inspiring," he answered with a raised eyebrow. "Her enthusiasm for anything is infectious, and when she decided to study to get into the Academy, she dragged us all along with her." With a small, fond smile, he said, "Best decision of my life, really. I would never have known I have a knack for numbers otherwise."

Hugh made a noise and grumbled, "I hate math."

"You also hate physics and chemistry."

"Yeah, thanks for reminding me, Rosa."

"If you need help or anything, you can ask me," Hilbert offered, wondering if he would regret doing so later on. "I worked as a tutor back h – back in Unova."

"You'd do that?"

"Are you sure?" Nate asked cautiously, sneaking over a glance at his friend. Hugh made a rude gesture when Nate lowered his voice and whispered conspiratorially, "I tried to do that before and Hugh didn't even show up because there was, and I quote, 'sports practice. I'm not sure which sport but it definitely happened,' unquote."

Hilbert snorted as Rosa added, "I can vouch for him. It was supposed to be a joint study and ended being a one-on-one. Unlike Hugh, I got an A on my math homework the next day."

"I deny everything," Hugh said righteously, glaring down into his chow mein. Nate's soft huff of laughter and Rosa's giggle made Hilbert smile, and it was then that he could see why these three had become good friends with Hilda, Cheren and Bianca.

Speaking of, there was a tap-tap-tap on his shoulder, and he turned around to be face-to-face with Cheren. "Sorry to interrupt," he said first, and then continued on in a way that clearly said otherwise, "But is it all right if we ask about your, ahem. Time in Unova?"

There was a sudden hush at the table, and Hilbert looked down as all pairs of eyes turned on him – except Nate's, who had the grace to carefully, pointedly look away, keeping himself uninvolved. At Undella, everyone had been in the same boat and no one ever brought it up out of respect; here, curiosity was the school's lifeblood, and its students were the cats getting themselves killed.

"No, it's not," Hilbert said after a few moments, without looking up.

"Are you sure – " Cheren's words died an abrupt death when Hilbert suddenly lifted his head to glare at him, brown eyes hard, and the boy backtracked and said hastily, "Sorry, I'm sorry."

"Can't blame him for askin', though," Hugh muttered, only to yelp when Nate reached over and smacked the side of his head, "It's true! I mean, we haven't seen any other Unovians around here who were – _ow_!"

"If you're so curious, why don't you go there yourselves and ask around?" Hilbert bit back, knowing he was being harsh but wanting to make it very clear on where he stood on the issue. Only Nate was spared from his icy glare. "And while you're there, how about you learn to respect a person's boundaries?"

"Ouch," Hilda muttered, crossing her arms over her chest, and he felt a twinge of guilt but knew that at least she had understood. Bianca's eyes were wide, but she said nothing, and both Rosa and Hugh quietly returned to eating their food. Only Cheren stared back, defiant, his eyes slightly obscured in the shine of his glasses.

Finally, after what felt like ages, he looked down and away and resumed eating. Hilbert silently let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

The rest of lunch passed by in complete silence, and Hilbert could not eat. He had lost his appetite.

* * *

**I sat down one day and decided that I wanted to write about Wes and Rui being in the newspaper club of a high school. Nothing too big, nothing too serious - just Wes being crazy good at taking pictures of people while Rui writes about anything that strikes her fancy. And some cutesy friendsy romance between them because colosseumshipping for the win.**

**This is what resulted.**

**What.**

_**What.**_

**I'm just as confused as you. What the heck is the Plasma Intervention? Where's N? Why didn't I use PokeSpe characters inste - wait, no, Wes and Rui. Riiiight - what's the premise for this story? _What happened to this being just a fluffy high school fic_? There wasn't going to be GANGS in this when I first began writing...!  
**

**...**

**Let's just say I haven't had a lot of sleep and end it at that. Thanks for reading, reviews are appreciated, have a nice day y'all, and tell your family you love them because you never know when it will be the last time.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own Pokemon, but if I did, I'd probably unintentionally destroy it while trying to make it better.  
**

* * *

The rest of the day was a blur.

There were four other periods following lunch – biology, history, Pokémon training, physical education – and while each teacher was unusual enough that they stuck in Hilbert's mind, even though Pokémon training was amazing to watch due to everyone's powerful starter Pokémon battling against each other, he could not help but concentrate on his parents and friends resting back home.

He had to laugh at that. _Resting_. Made it sound so peaceful, when they had been put six feet under in terrible ways.

By the time Ms. Whitney had finished beating the crap out of them in PE, Hilbert felt a little more clear-headed, though he refused to speak to his old friends when they quietly came up next to him. They didn't stay long, likely deterred by his silence, and then quite suddenly Bianca was the only one left.

She didn't smile or try to apologize for their actions at lunch, as he thought she might. Instead, she asked, "Would you like to get some ice cream? There's a fantastic little shoppe down the way," and he assented with a nod. Out of the four of them Bianca knew how to best interact with people, and today was no exception, as she walked out of the athletics department, looking behind her to ensure that he was following.

"You'll have to forgive us eventually," she said along the way, and Hilbert sighed as she told him, "And like Hugh implied, Cheren won't be the only one asking questions."

"I know," he said morosely. "The idea was that mentioning it now would make it easier, so I can get it out of the way, but I forgot that this isn't Unova. People are going to ask."

"They don't over there?"

"No. Everyone knows someone who was involved. What's the point in asking a stranger when you can ask a friend instead?" _If they're not dead, that is._

"I guess that makes sense." She frowns. "That's very sad, though."

"Everything about the Plasma Intervention is sad." He scowled and muttered, "Sad, and infuriating."

"You know, it might be easier for you if you just told the newspaper about it." He gave her an incredulous look that quickly became distrustful. She raised her hands placatingly. "Hear me out, Hilbert. If you don't ever tell us your story, everyone's going to ask you for the rest of the year – and if you do choose to tell people, you'll have to tell it multiple times."

"I'm not planning on telling it. Ever."

"I'm just saying," she emphasized, "_If_ you do, you can get it all out on one go and get people to stop bothering you if you get the newspaper club to publish it."

"I sincerely hope you're kidding right now, Bianca."

She did not deign his words a response as she said airily, "Oh, we're here."

The ice cream shoppe was relatively empty when they arrived, and Bianca cheerfully chatted with the guy behind the counter as Hilbert browsed the options. In the end, he decided to stick with his usual choice (which he was relieved to see they had), pecha sherbet, while Bianca went for chocolate chip cookie dough.

"Good choice," the guy said when Hilbert told him his order, and he returned his grin with a lifeless smile, already missing the ice cream he used to get in Castelia City. Their Casteliacones were one of a kind.

Bianca insisted on footing the bill, and then she pushed him out of the shoppe and walked him over to a small hidden park in the area. They were still near the campus, so the streets were not so full of people, but even so, he was glad to escape to a quiet place that was almost entirely absent of people. "Tell me about the Academy of Undella," she said as they ate, and when he gave her a questioning look she smiled and told him, "Everything. Except the parts you don't want to tell."

The next hour was spent talking about what he had been doing over in Unova – which mostly involved math, numbers, robots, and many a chess game – while skimming details on the Plasma Intervention as well as the fact the grand total of friends he'd had there could be counted on one hand. She was particularly interested in the single introductory neuroscience class the school had offered, which he had taken on a whim, and quizzed him endlessly about its content.

By the time they managed to get back to the Academy, Hilbert felt more relaxed than he'd had in days, and he told Bianca, "Thanks for all of this."

"You're welcome," she said with a flash of teeth, and the look on her face was very serious as she added, "We don't bite, you know. If you need anything, you can ask any of Class A."

"Even Cheren? Or Wes?"

"Well, all right, maybe not Cheren. But you can definitely rely on Wes. He's a big softie under that tough exterior – at least, that's what Rui says. He… doesn't talk to anyone else, really," she mused, tapping a finger on her chin, before she added hastily, "But I'm sure he's a nice guy!"

He smiled and shook his head. "I'll take your word for it. What about Silver?"

"If you talk to Silver," Bianca said with a mischievous gleam in her eye, "Make sure you have Lyra with you first."

They parted ways in front of the boys' dormitories with the promise of doing their outing again the following week, and even though it was only late afternoon, Hilbert quickly made his way to his room. He hadn't forgotten about the mention of a Plasma gang in class earlier that day, and his laptop was open on bed at the moment. As soon as he unlocked and then locked his room again, he wasted no time turning the computer on and accessing the Internet.

A quick Google search brought up multiple articles about the Plasma gang, which, unlike the one back home, was not parading around with ridiculous mottos about peace and freedom. He read through five of the articles, and all of them contained mentions of Pokémon and Pokémon violence. It reminded him of the Intervention back home, and he felt sick to his stomach as he clicked back to the search page.

Something else caught his eye: _Galactic_. An opposing gang, according to the press, and he did a search on that too. This led to another gang called Rocket, and then the warring gangs Aqua and Magma, then Flare, then Snagem and its parent organization, Cipher. All were gangs, and all terrorized the streets of Goldenrod with their warfare.

Research concluded, he sat back, tapping a pencil against his lower lip. Wes had seemed particularly interested in the Plasma Intervention, as had the rest of the class, but he had to wonder why the gang itself was mentioned, though he agreed that it was somewhat relevant. Even so, the way the class had reacted as a whole was most curious, though he couldn't quite figure out why he thought it was.

_Speaking of_, he thought, _where had all of Class A had disappeared to at the end of the day?_ His friends, excepting Bianca, had been quick to leave him to his sullen moping, not to mention the rest of the class had cleared out of the room very quickly. Which reminded him, he should probably go and apologize to Cheren, and he stood up with a sigh, letting himself out of his room and making sure to lock it again.

If there was one thing he remembered about Cheren, it was that he would often lock himself in his room right after school to finish his homework before coming out to do anything social, if he came out at all. Hilbert was fairly certain this hadn't changed, as he made his way down the stairs to his friend's room and knocked a few times on the door.

There was no response. He frowned, and tried again, and then, after furtively checking both sides, tried the door. It was locked, unsurprisingly, and he stood there for a few moments. Did Cheren not have a roommate? He doubted it. Perhaps he was in the library? _Unlikely_, his brain said, because Cheren worked best in complete silence. With a shrug he turned away to go back to his room.

On the way up the stairs he bumped into Gary, who muttered, "Sorry, got things to do, just gonna sneak past you here," before slipping down the stairs and darting out the entryway. Hilbert looked after him, more than a little confused; that was not how Gary usually acted towards people. Something was definitely up, and he decided he would figure out what as he made it back into his room, ensuring the door was locked before sitting down at his computer again. A few more searches of gang activity – all of the gangs, not just Plasma – revealed that there was an intricate conflict between all of them.

Then he stumbled upon something else. Apparently there was an anonymous vigilante sort of group who often countered gang movement – not just one, but all, and almost always at the same time. When he checked up to see if the information was legitimate, hundreds of articles popped up, each detailing the anonymous group's foiling of whatever gang's mission. It was actually a bit ridiculous how often they appeared, Hilbert was beginning to see.

He wondered who they were, and when his mind connected his classmates' disappearances to them, he immediately dismissed it. Who would let a bunch of teenagers dive into dangerous zones such as gang territory without the proper precautions? However powerful his classmates' Pokémon were – and he had confidence that they were forces not to be messed with – they surely couldn't stand up against entire gangs. That would be preposterous.

… Just preposterous enough to be believable.

* * *

The next few days were more manageable, as he fell into a schedule of observation, homework, clubs, and Pokémon training.

By observation, he meant something quite simple: he was mapping out his friends' route, after the schoolday ended. Though the four of them always spent time together after class, Cheren and Hilda would eventually make some excuse and disappear, leaving Hilbert with Bianca for a few moments before returning to his room.

Eventually, he began to make excuses to leave just a bit before Cheren and Hilda tended to part, and then he followed behind them as quietly as possible. He managed to locate the room they entered every day after school, repeating the pseudo-stalking procedure more than once to confirm – though he knew he would have to wait until a time when he would be certain to not be caught before he tried to investigate what was inside.

(In his gut, he already could guess, but being the person he was, he needed more solid evidence.)

In any case, the homework load was not as difficult as people had been trying to make him believe. The math offered was a joke, at least to him, and he began to tutor Hugh and Rosa, with Nate's help on occasion, twice a week as the days went by. Physics, chemistry and biology took a bit more work, but given his strong base in math, they weren't incredibly difficult. History and English were boring but easy classes as always.

Of the clubs he joined, the math team was the most enjoyable. Silver was an intimidating force at first, but Hilbert's teammates were quick to put him at ease, and he soon began to enjoy the complex problems that were constantly thrown their way. The math tournament wasn't for another few months, but that didn't stop their captain from drilling them endlessly on problems they knew and problems they didn't.

Silver also continued his effort to recruit Hilbert into the Quiz Bowl team, given his profound understanding of the history of most anything related to math, but each and every time, he politely declined. There was simply not enough time in one day, and he held such little interest in it he decided it wasn't worth going on his college resumé.

Robotics went in approximately the same way. Calem was also on the math team, and Hilbert found that even though he tended to be quiet and a little hesitant here and there, his fellow Unovian had a core of steel. It showed in the way he berated his fellow programmers to work, and in the way he harped on Hilbert to get the build team to start building prototypes already, we only have two months to get everything ready so why haven't you even touched a band saw yet, like what the heck man, move! Fixing the physical bugs and smoothing out issues, whether robotic or otherwise in nature, was a calming exercise for him, and his fellow members were happy to both listen to him and contribute their thoughts. He supposed captainship of the build team could have been worse.

And Pokémon training… well. His Emboar was not weak by any means, and he did win more battles than he lost, but he was surprised to find that both Wes and Rui could absolutely wipe the floor with him. He hadn't been sure why someone like Wes had had an Espeon, or why Rui had an Umbreon, but now he knew firsthand that the Psychic-type was insanely powerful – and was also Umbreon's brother, who was similarly skilled.

(As testament to this, everyone had stopped challenging them to double battles because no matter what anyone tried to do, they always managed to win. That, and having two Pokémon wasn't the norm in this school for some reason – though the Orrians might have had something to do with that.)

Also, age was clearly not a factor in skill, as the youngest person in the class – Rosa, in this case – was ranked number three overall in the entire school, right after May and Silver.

Given that Hilbert had a Fire-type, it would be difficult if he wanted to be best overall, though he could be number one in his type specialty if he managed to beat May, which was close to impossible. He still tried and failed everyday nonetheless, though he managed to best Silver's Feraligatr once and considered this the more important achievement of his academic life.

The questions and sidelong glances about the Plasma Intervention continued and then died down, as days turned into weeks. He learned evasion from frequent repartees on the issue with Cheren, and he fielded many a question with an answer that neither clarified nor confused the asker any more than before.

November became December, eventually. He hardly noticed it go by until it got colder out and it started snowing, which he hadn't seen in four years. It was a nice change of pace for all of three days; then he privately wished it would go away and that it would stop being so cold, so he didn't have to bundle up before he went outside. The time he spent putting clothes on and taking them off and hanging them up to dry could have been spent doing a great amount of other things.

Still, he braved the cold weather, and one day after school ended he found, to his surprise, May and Brendan sitting on a bench in the courtyard, heads together as they conversed quietly. He walked past them with no intention to interrupt, but then May called out, "Hilbert, mind joining us for a second?"

"Certainly," he replied, turning around to face them and closing the distance between them. They had claimed a bench for themselves, but the two scooted aside so he could sit as well, and then they waited in a soft silence. The snow acted as muffler for all of the sounds of the city, and it was tranquil and peaceful in a way that Hilbert had not experienced in a long while.

Finally Brendan said, "How's school going for you so far?"

"You ask me now, after it's been nearly a month?" Brendan shrugged, flushing even redder in the cold weather, as Hilbert shrugged. "It's been fine, really. Not much different than in Unova."

"You're adjusting better than people thought you would," Brendan confessed with a grin, past embarrassment momentarily forgotten. "Wonder why the newspaper club hasn't hounded you for your story yet, though."

(Hilbert recalled running into Wes at the martial arts dojo a few days back – it was more of a hobby for him, since he wasn't entirely fond of anything physical – and asking him that very same question, given the Orrian was the primary photographer for the club. His response, which in itself Hilbert had not been expecting, was mysterious yet reassuring: "Rui is editor-in-chief, and she has asked us to leave you alone. Thus, by proxy, we leave you alone." There was a glint in his golden eyes as he added, "A simple algorithm is one that is understood, no? Remember that next time someone asks about your past.")

"Yeah," Hilbert said in response to Brendan's half-query. "As far as I know, Rui said something about it and the rest of the club is complying at this point. Lucky me, I guess." He gave the Hoennese a half-curious, half-suspicious glance. "Unless you're going to start asking questions, too, in which case you can consider this conversation to be over."

"We're not _that_ nosy," May said, sounding affronted, and then laughed when Hilbert sent her a withering look. "Okay, maybe we are, but at least we've kept those questions to ourselves, yeah?" He grunted in response, and she laughed again. "We just wanted to ask you about your time in Hoenn – you said that you lived there for quite a while, right?"

"Yeah, in, uh – " Shoot, it felt like ages since them, and even though a large chunk of his childhood memories had been made there, he could hardly remember the name – "Mauville City sounds right. Close to the sea, which was nice." Wow, he didn't realize how much he missed the ocean until he said that. "Didn't have any Pokémon until I moved to Unova, though. To Nuvema, I mean."

They asked a number of questions – innocent ones, if he were being honest. When did he move? How old was he? Did he still have friends back in Hoenn? Still, he felt there was an edge to their words, as if they were testing the waters. Seeing what he was like, what he had gone through, all without addressing the Plasma Intervention that happened just a year ago. He wondered if he was looking too far into it, and decided that he wasn't sure, so for the moment he'd keep his guard up.

He was glad he did when May said offhandedly, "Your Emboar is tough, though. You must've battled a lot in Unova."

"You could say that," he said carefully. The cold had begun to eat away at him, but now he hardly noticed. "I took on the League Challenge but dropped out after six Gyms. School was more important to me."

"But your Emboar seems to enjoy battling," Brendan said with a furrowed brow. Hilbert was privately surprised he and May hadn't begun to shiver. "Seems odd that it isn't angry that you don't do so competitively."

"Is Pokémon training here not considered competitive?" Hilbert said with a raised eyebrow, before adding, "I know for certain that Emboar doesn't mind it."

"How?"

From the way May and Brendan were carefully looking away, Hilbert got the sense he already knew the answer. Everyone knew of people who could understand Pokémon, given that there were so few of them, and in Unova, the only one known had been N Harmonia, who was now most certainly not around anywhere nearby. It was clear they suspected – had suspected from the beginning, Hilbert was willing to guess – and he knew that if he answered honestly, it would bring him straight into the heart of the Plasma Intervention, as well as his personal involvement to such.

"Wouldn't you love to know," he answered frostily. "While I'm at it, why don't I just spill exactly what happened last year for you, hm?"

There was a brief lull that told him he'd been absolutely correct in assuming they knew the answer and were seeking confirmation, and then May was telling him, a confused look to her face, "We didn't ask that."

"Of course you didn't," Hilbert replied, and Brendan physically flinched as his tone hardened. "If you want to know more about N Harmonia, about his cause and his downfall and what exactly the Plasma Intervention entailed, I suggest asking someone else. I have said this many times, and I would appreciate it if you would listen. Unless you were going for something completely different?" Neither answered, and anger began to simmer in his chest. "Who wrangled you into asking for information?" he asked them sharply.

Brendan made a choking sound (he'd also been right in asking that particular question, now he was certain), and May's eyes narrowed as she said, "What are you talking about?"

"It's been a month since I've arrived, and everyone's been poking around." He scowled at them. "Most students just straight up and ask me questions, but I'm not completely blind. Class A people have tried to get into my room, they've looked through my schoolwork when I'm not looking, and they follow me around sometimes. You're breaking the pattern."

"And that's enough evidence to accuse us of espionage?" Brendan challenged.

"When you take my words and twist them around like that, yes, I would think so." He practically threw his hands up in the air before thinking better of it – it was cold, and his hands would be much warmer in his pockets. "Espionage, really? What do I know that helps you in any way? Who are you even spying _for_?"

When he received no response, he let out a frustrated sigh as he pushed himself to his feet. "Nice talking to you," he said stiffly, and they looked at each other, grimacing. "Good luck to your organization or whatever it is. I dare them to try to get me to lower my guard again."

The fact remained that it was very presumptuous for him to draw conclusions about any sort of organization – but he has his guesses, and from the reaction May and Brendan showed upon his words helped solidify them. The anonymous group that had been stopping the city's gangs had to be related to Class A in some way, and he planned on finding out exactl how.

* * *

He wasn't sure where he got the idea, but one day, after a bout of talking to Cheren about 'Hilda problems', as his friend called them (since when were they dating? Why hadn't Hilbert been informed about this?), he sat down with a pen, paper and his computer and began to track gang movements. The first time he had skimmed articles about gang activity had been a month ago, but he distinctly remembered thinking there was a pattern somewhere, and since he had just finished his English essay, he figured he might as well try to find it again.

He spent five hours analyzing data that night, turning in when it hit eleven thirty at night, but by the same time the next day, he had determined the general thought process of each individual gang.

From there, he got himself some cardboard and a map of the city, enlarging it so that when he tacked it up on his wall, it covered the empty space above his desk. He also went out and bought pushpins and balls of fine thread of varying colors, placing them in the areas that each group was striking depending on the color he'd chosen for each of the different eight gangs.

From there, he was able to decisively locate each of their hideouts and territories, marking them off on his map with colored markers – black for Rocket, blue for Aqua, red for Magma, cyan for Galactic, green for Plasma, orange for Flare, yellow for Snagem, and violet for Cipher. All of this took only one evening, and he began to check the news after school each day in order to update the map every time a crime was committed by a gang or the anonymous vigilantes struck back.

The more he looked, the more he saw. And then, he made a half-hearted guess that Aqua would strike a particular building the following evening and ended up being on the money, right down to the general time it would happen.

He had considered the whole map thing a sort of hobby, since he had nothing better to do as his friends were almost always busy after school, but as he continued to make predictions and continued to be mostly correct, he realized that if he wanted to see if Class A was the vigilante group, he now had the perfect opportunity to check.

It had taken him three days to make this discovery – from the first day when he crunched the data to the third when he made eight predictions and seven of them had been correct – and as day four dawned, he decided it was the time to test his hypothesis.

He typed up his predictions for the evening on his computer, printed it out on the dorm's communal printer, slipping down early to grab it before folding it and sealing it in an envelope. It was still early when he went outside, retraced his steps back to the door he'd seen Hilda and Cheren disappear into, and slipped it underneath, holding his breath. If he was wrong, then someone would be confused and possibly a little disturbed and nothing else; if he was right, all he had to do was look at the news sometime tomorrow for confirmation.

Hilda asked why he was yawning when he arrived to class, and all he told her was that he'd been up early working on a project before asking her offhandedly why no one had told him that she and Cheren were dating. The distraction was effective as she flushed beet-red and Bianca began clamoring details, but the letter simmered in the back of his mind for the rest of the day.

* * *

**I'm so tired.**

**There's that period when I feel like writing a lot, and then there's the lull afterwards, when I just kind of sit back and wonder what to write and then, after starting a little bit, can't find it in me to continue. Add everything else that has happened and I'm ready to fall into bed and sleep for a week.**

**This writing is crap and I don't really care.**

**Thanks for reading, thanks for reviewing if you choose to do so.**


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